(no subject)
I love writing when I have nothing to say. It usually incites subconscious information and I get a glimpse at a part of myself that I don't know very well. We're all layers upon layers upon layers upon layers.
I'm a sucker for transcendent mind-states. In a previous life I was probably a hippie. Free spirited on acid, philosophizing about life, creating subsonic sound waves with a guitar and sleeping in trees. In a life before that...I was most likely a black man tearing up the saxophone or drums in jazz band. Certain jazz music gets inside my head and spine and takes me off to never never land. I swear I can see the smoky jazz venue, dim blue lights illuminating the profiles of people passing by. The tall black man sitting in the corner observing the environment and smoking a cigarette. One day I will find those venues. And I will sit there for hours drinking martini's until I receive a clear recollection of a previous life.
I wonder if I ever learned the lessons of THAT life. I wonder if I'll ever learn the lesson of THIS one.
I've been told, you see, that a person must travel through and learn the lessons of 12 different lives. But what happens when they're complete? How many lives do you get before its too many? Not everyone learns 12 in a row...does that mean some are on life 110? So should I worry, or say, fuck it, I have plenty of tries at this...
I could have been a gypsy. I don't think I even truly understand who or what a gypsy is...but the word seems too fitting.
I think I may have been alive during the Renaissance. Doing what, who knows? I wonder if souls have gender. Ha. I could go on...but I should probably stop. I'm somewhat glad no one really reads or uses these LJ's anymore. I'd get myself into trouble. Or something...
I'm a sucker for transcendent mind-states. In a previous life I was probably a hippie. Free spirited on acid, philosophizing about life, creating subsonic sound waves with a guitar and sleeping in trees. In a life before that...I was most likely a black man tearing up the saxophone or drums in jazz band. Certain jazz music gets inside my head and spine and takes me off to never never land. I swear I can see the smoky jazz venue, dim blue lights illuminating the profiles of people passing by. The tall black man sitting in the corner observing the environment and smoking a cigarette. One day I will find those venues. And I will sit there for hours drinking martini's until I receive a clear recollection of a previous life.
I wonder if I ever learned the lessons of THAT life. I wonder if I'll ever learn the lesson of THIS one.
I've been told, you see, that a person must travel through and learn the lessons of 12 different lives. But what happens when they're complete? How many lives do you get before its too many? Not everyone learns 12 in a row...does that mean some are on life 110? So should I worry, or say, fuck it, I have plenty of tries at this...
I could have been a gypsy. I don't think I even truly understand who or what a gypsy is...but the word seems too fitting.
I think I may have been alive during the Renaissance. Doing what, who knows? I wonder if souls have gender. Ha. I could go on...but I should probably stop. I'm somewhat glad no one really reads or uses these LJ's anymore. I'd get myself into trouble. Or something...